Few Regrets

  Few Regrets

“Mystery is the heart of every relationship”.  To say every relationship, may seem a challenge to some but then we fail to recognize the differences between relationships and acquaintances. I’m acquainted with the clerk at the gas station, and many co-workers. They hold no mystery to me, offer no appeal and we are mutually set. I rally to the mystery of my wife, or daughter or those I relate to by common appeal. Occasionally the shadow of a mystery is cast and I can tell a relationship is building.

The tales of One Thousand and One Nights, told by the Persian queen Shahrazad to the king kept her from the fate of all her predecessors. King Shahryar kept a custom of taking a young virgin to wife only to have her beheaded before a second night arrived. I’m not sure if this speaks to the been-there-done-that syndrome found in the modern night club set, or to the Braille rendition of she’s not what I thought she was. The newly crowned Queen however used the mystery of a tale uncompleted to assure at least one more night as queen for the alleged one thousand nights.

The lure of relationship loses its address when we have it all figured out or fail to recognize any mystery. This is perhaps why I fail to understand how the greatest message of all can get lost in translation, or better said, over translation. How can God be figured out? Can the infinite God of eternity be fully grasped by the finite plans or theology of men? Is it just me or does it seem we fight to understand a matter and once we think we have it the appeal is dampened? Why can’t we enjoy the mystery? This of course is not to say I think it wise to concede without a chase. To me God is like the facets of a diamond, He turns and more allure is captured in the filter of my thoughts while His wisdom is continually displayed.

Solomon said there were a number of things that were mysterious to him, one being the way of a man with a maid. There is appeal, mystery, pursuit and the catch. All too soon it seems the mystery fades and the appeal wanes. I fail to see that women can be figured out at all; to me it’s a continual mystery. Maybe this is why my wife and I have such a long track record. This is not to say there’s been no pain, all of life carries with it the burden of pain. Pain indicates there is life, when it fails to hurt its life is over but to build a life on pain misses the point. When all you have in common is mutual pain the makings of failure are at work. Find the mystery of the pain then pursue wholeness.

A quality relationship says where you rejoice, I also; where you dream, I will join you; when you hurt, I will give myself. Taking our cue from the Maker, who came to sinful man, gave His all and settled our debt, we also ought to find the power of a life well offered. Can there really be satisfaction in giving ourselves for the recovery of what was once beautiful but now torn? Here is where true regret comes into the picture; not seeing today, what may be seen tomorrow. Hind sight is filled with anguish over missed opportunities. Here perhaps ought we to walk, living in spite of the pain but possessing few regrets. I do not mean the regret of not buying the new car or wishing you hadn’t eaten that third cupcake; three is not enough. The regret of not forgiving or holding onto your pride or unbending will is what destroys life. The regret of a lost moment, an unformed smile or unspoken thank you all add up. The mystery that compels the pursuit is far more rewarding that the satisfaction of a moments gratification. We must ask ourselves is this persons story worthy to be heard? Am I so full of myself that there remains no room for discovery? What is this wanton hubris men pass off as relationship? It costs little and last a spell, then fades like cheap shirt in the wash. Real relationships are the wine of life, they take time to mature and get better with age.

cheers                      

Tunnel Vision

Tunnel Vision

“I think we should just bomb the hell out of all those Muslims, after all they are the enemies of God”. The question I propose is did this last statement have a sound Christian basis or bias? Now before you condemn me to the gallows let me, in my defense, state that these were not my words but rather those of a friend with a rather tight theological case of tunnel-vision. Let me explain; in a conversation about terrorism, Islam and the Jews, my friend, having been persuaded by those who teach him, that the Jews of today are God’s chosen people, Islam hates Jews, therefore we the Christian nation ought to destroy the enemies of God. How the God of love and author of justice could be wrangled into being the inspiration for such a position is beyond me. I simply asked “where is the God of justice in your statement”?

Aside from the fact that no living Jew today can possibly prove he is in fact a blood line Jew due to the complete destruction of the temple records in AD 70, and further that Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of “all the law and the prophets”, why would we think being a defender of the Jew is more honorable than that of the poor or the broken? Tunnel-vision.

Tunnel vision is by definition narrow minded, or narrow and limited thinking. Reasoning in the circular would be another explanation. To remain at a conclusion simply because you were taught it or have always believed it is not a worthy field to plant your flag. It may well be the grace of God that some Christians have little influence in the spectrum of world politics. Little wonder that most wars are in fact, a product of religions.

How many Christians would be persuaded to become a Muslim should Islam invade their neighborhood with weaponry? What if the opposite were the condition? Now if I read the book correctly, as a follower of Jesus Christ, my life should speak of the character and nature of the savior. The apostle Paul made the statement that we are living letters written not with ink and paper but by the Spirit living within us. The life of a Christian is perhaps the only Christ others may see.

What keeps us in tunnel vision? Fear? Pride?  Power? Ignorance? All the above I conclude from personal experience and debate. Most people just hate to change; it takes effort to allow a sacred cow to die. It requires courage to investigate a different possibility. I often muse about the message Christian is broadcasting to the lost and hurting of this world. Is it really one of compassion and love for those Jesus died for? Did Jesus give His life so we could have bigger buildings, newer cars or the most in Sunday school contests or the likes?

Whether you agree with the difficult individuals around you is not the goal. The supreme mission is to represent Christ our Master in whatever we find ourselves involved in. Only in this manner can Christ actually be our life. It matters little that we can parrot answers if our example is pathetic and shallow. The gospel is good news and its message is not complex. The text never changes but the context is always adjusting.

In the late 1600’s Antonio Stradivari saw the need for a changed violin because the settings in which they were played for public audience was evolving, requiring a more “voiced” instrument. What he created was not a new instrument, but an adapted one. No new notes could be reached, or additional strings attached but the sound was majestic and crisp and able without amplification to be heard at any point in the concert hall. Conveying the mood and the heart of the composer was the goal. What Stradivari gave the world was the perfect violin voice.

Are we perhaps the Master’s voices today in the market place of life where the text is pure and the context meet the challenge?

cheers     

 

 

A Sense of Accomplishment

A sense of Accomplishment

 I remember it was February and on purpose I ordered a specific part for my cruiser, knowing that I would not be riding it every day because of inclement weather.  I don’t like to ride in the rain or temps below 50. I thought that according to the website 3 weeks for delivery was 3 weeks Julian calendar count. Had I known then what I know now things might have been different; like I could have spent the money on something else, or not at all. Well, May 1^st my package arrived. Short one very important component, I called for an explanation. I was told that the finish trim part was at the chrome shop and would be in short order ready to ship. June rolled around and low and behold what arrives via Fed-Ex; the elusive chrome tip for the custom swing arm previously paid for almost six months ago.

Now you probably never experienced the anticipation and series of let downs I described (tongue in cheek) but after a spell you just move on and hope for the best. I mean, it would be nice to hear up front we plan on keeping our word but were not sure we can be inconvenienced by your need even though you prepaid the item.

Now again, recall, I started my plans back in February, the part arrived grossly overdue and then incomplete but was fulfilled in June, This is now August and I finally got the extra time needed on a cooler weekend to install the jewel. After a few split knuckles, mild frustration and a memory of some choice words long forgotten, I realized this was a two man job, not a man and his lovely wife, who by the way was out on a girl’s day out with friends. But…it’s finished, completed, perfecto; except now I have another budding idea; a bigger rear tire that only needs a minor engineering feat to pull off. In a nut shell you can catch a glimpse of the real me.

Why does a sense of accomplishment mean so much to we humans, so much so that way too many of us find our worth in what we can pull off and not in who we are?  I think that the problems of no hope or goals in life erode the mental fabric of our grey matter and human goes into a tailspin. I surmise, and it just my speculation, that 60% of those sitting on their patootey  with their hand out for the freebies of other men’s labor lack the drive to complete a goal or set their sights on a fresh hope. Solomon said labor was honorable, Moses said 6 days you shall work, God spoke to Adam and told him to subdue the earth. Is there a clue here? In a recent conversation I heard a young man admit what I could have concluded from observation…he doesn’t like to work. I mean where’s the fun in that? Without a sense of accomplishment life just seems dull. Can you imagine the frustrations of Edison after discovering hundreds of ways the incandescent bulb will not work? Now consider the frustrations of running a laptop off of candle power. Yes life has interruptions of magnanimous proportions begging to be solved and rarely does a plan “come together” like the A team, but life is great and the challenge makes the day.

Heaven, we are told by those that mostly speculate, is a place of perfection, nothing to solve, no issues to overcome, not quite the clouds and harp idea but close. No work needed, no conflict, only peace and kumbayah. I going to go out on a limb here and speculate 60% of those “relocated” to heaven will develop mental issues…oops, there goes perfection.

In every shortage there’s a solution, in every election there’s an answer, and every struggle has a hidden reward just waiting for a person of hope (not hope and change) to cast a goal and run toward it. At the tower of Babel described briefly in Genesis 11 God himself gave us a clue, “the people are one and speak the same language and… now nothing which they purpose to do will be impossible for them”. So , what are we capable of and does the challenge we face present an opportunity or a disappointment?

cheers

 

 

What’s in a Name

What’s in a Name

Wolfgang; what mother could look down into the crib and with a straight face utter that name with a smile and think herself to be sane or her child’s future to be void of bullies? Who came up with Gertrude, Beauregard, Pythius or   my favorite…Peleg. I remember with a smile, reading from Genesis just before bedtime and hearing my restless kids snicker at the name Peleg. I bet the little rascal got beat up on the way home from his violin lesson every week; how could he not? At least he had to be harangued every time he visited the urinal.

Years ago Johnny Cash gave us the song “A boy named Sue” which tells the story of a father giving his son a name that would toughen him up for the real battles of life. What’s in a name? When my wife and I were first dating, really just conversing I proposed that I had never met a “Eugene” that was normal. She sheepishly looked away and softly announced her father’s name was Eugene. She should have known then what the balance of her life would be like if she continued our relationship.

My father told me when I was very young my obscure name was in honor of his best friend aboard the USS Coral Sea during his navy days; a man of integrity. I thought it was pretty cool then…that was before I started school. I actually think he did it to gain a sense of revenge for the name grandpa passed on to him like a bad habit. What child sits in solitude wishing he could be called Oma? Perhaps my kids will draw straws at a secret family council to determine which of the three must name there unsuspecting child some heinous tag like Gaston. It may well mean “God loves the beaten” but to a child it means surrender now. Can you imagine the young fraulein faced with a heart of love for little Hans whose family name is Lipschitz? Does she pull a Juliet or say yes?

Given time we become what we are called. Take the story of God and Abram. At a covenant ceremony the Almighty gives him a new name; Abraham, meaning father of many nations. His grandson Jacob also lived up to his name which means deceiver until he met God and gained a new name which means prince of God or governed by God.

Continually tell a child he’s stupid and he will develop that trait. Tell a child they are beautiful and they will blossom. God calls those that are His own “beloved” and “victorious”; He says we are children of light and the apple of His eye. Maybe we need to slow down and listen, let those words sink in. If my concept of God is that of an ogre with bad breath longing to flog me I’ll most likely live up to the imagined plot. If I tell myself the words that God has revealed to us in His book, my life will reflect them with gracious results.

Many years ago Earl Nightingale, a much sought after motivational speaker wrote a book titled Think and Grow Rich. The basic concept comes from hearing, believing and acting on what we hear. This actually typifies life, because we do tend to become what we believe. If we tire of the rewards of life, perhaps we need a change of speech. If it’s burdensome to endure the treatment others serve us perhaps a personal change is the first step before pointing a finger at others; we do indeed teach others how we wish to be treated.

In September of 1967 rock star Frank Zappa named his new born daughter Moon Unit. I don’t know what Frank was thinking, but to gain some sanity in life she became of all things a stand-up comic. Maybe getting to call her little brother “Dweezil” eased the suffering.

Cheers

Corny the Acorn

                                     Corny the Acorn

Perhaps the most heart wrenching circumstance of life is when we see or encounter agony in those we love and find ourselves unable to affect a change. Imagine the anguish of a single mother with an addict for a son or the man with a grossly unfaithful spouse. Truly life can make us feel small and powerless and for the most part it would be exactly right. Somehow in all of life’s “tragic” moments the strong of heart find a way to overcome and by God’s grace find an anchor of hope that results in a tangible resolution; this can only be the work of God.

I have friends, who recently found jobs in a recessed market after continual prayers in excess of a year. One, who had several inconclusive medical tests, underwent exploratory surgery and still has no solid answers. Yet another after enduring almost ten years of an unfaithful spouse faced this last year with only the hope that life will once again gain normalcy.

Where, we might ask, is God in all these matters? The fact is He resides in the midst of them holding up the weak until they become strong, until they discover that in all things they are being shaped into an expression of God himself. No one really escapes this venue; some just roll with it more readily than others. Perhaps the acorn can illuminate the message for us.

Corny the acorn believed himself to be the fairest and finest in the entire tree top. As far as he could see, thought he, no nut was above him, all those below were just window dressing and unimportant. The faint limb he was perched upon was unsuitable for the likes of any tailed rodent or feathered robber. It failed him to realize the purpose of a nut is not an eternal existence at the bend of a bow.

It took more than a gentle breeze to dislodge him, actually the moment of release came just as the branch snapped back from the might gust. Catapulted into the open field below Corny experienced the first sense of isolation and separation syndrome. There must be a mistake, it’s not the way it’s supposed to be, it’s never been this way before, will it ever be like it was? Some things are not what they seem, rarely do we know it before hand and hindsight is as coveted as foresight; all we posses is 20/20 and a hope in God.

Days passed and no plea was heard. A different herd did chance upon his coordinates, a band of bovine meandered over his new residence with the grace of child feeding himself mashed potatoes for the first time. When hope of a rescue vanished and feelings of “nothing could be worse” developed, the assumed conclusion of the “Job” predicament shut all else out. Yes, you guessed it, fresh bovine exhaust gave him that warm sticky feeling we all learned to hate at an early age. Corny thought he saw his benefactor shake it off on purpose while the next one trudged him into the earth. How does an acorn give up? Buried alive he died to what he once thought to be living. In the dark of his grave with no hope he pined away the months of cold and sogginess. If Corny was short sighted he certainly is not alone, few nuts read the manual on steps to growth and properly interpret germination. Given time and the right environment a seed will produce the DNA hidden within, the question is always, what is within? You may imagine yourself to be one thing and your place as the choicest, but God alone knows what it takes to germinate the product He is after in all of us.

When the first ray of sunlight beams into the crevice formed by the shoot breaking ground, we say a tree is born; actually a tree was revealed. All the steps to unveil the tree find occupation in our journey. Without the transitional events the acorn dies to never rise, so it is with you and I.

May we find the joy of God in the journey, may we enjoy the ride, and may we rejoice when we hear the chain saw and again realize change is always here.

Cheers   

Moments in Time

                                                                                      Moments in time

I remember a time when life seemed so much simpler, when values meant more than advancing an agenda. The shame of our behemoth paced life is we fail to enjoy the gracious God given “aha” moments, perhaps because we never see them.

Economically speaking there is no doubt many are hurting, tensions are up like sparing pugilists, while keeping ahead of the bill collector is the accepted daily goal. At the end of a harsh sunset what satisfactions do we cherish? Think about all the coercion and manipulative advertisement around us, all but dictating what we must wear or purchase, eat or emulate. Really, am I more content with an ipad; does my 150 channels equal peaceful bliss, is this really living?

Does worry and anxiety produce the edge to leap the obstacle, or fill the treasury? Can we change one matter by fretting or losing sleep? So why do we go there. It seems that we “advanced” bi peds are still at the task of building the tower of babel, reaching into the heavens so to speak for that coveted goal of control. It happens in every area of life, take the simplicity of the gospel; Christ died to save man from sin and grant life eternal with a heavenly Father. The cleverness of man turns the good news into a machine that erects monuments and thrones as it collects cheeks in the pew, somehow assuming numbers that nod in agreement equals progress.

The car you drove but a decade ago holds no candle to the complexities of today’s shiny rides. The majority of malfunctions today are products of needed recalibrations and program failures. Do I need a car that has to automatically scroll the window down a notch before the door is closed? Do I need an instrument cluster to display multiply languages or even a two psi tire difference? All those toys and it still just goes from point a to point b, costs more to repair and creates grief when it “thinks” for itself.

When was the last time you stared in amazement at the wonders of God’s beauty and handiwork? Have you seen the glorious sunset over the Grand Canyon; the hues of red and gold as shadows cascade down the layers of time revealed by a simple thing like water? Can you capture the special moments when for the first time a child discovers a lady bug or tail feathers of a duck? Is there anything more pleasant than the smell of a rose in full bloom, except perhaps the smile of a yes after a youthful proposal?

This treasure called life is a display of wonder designed to reveal the wisdom and greatness of our creator. Dare we crowd it out with trinkets and gaud only to discover too late opportunities of lasting worth? Have you sat at the bedside of an aged friend or loved one and after they passed thanked God for those extra moments and memories? Can new shoes compete?

Slow down, enjoy the journey. Fail to get caught up in the grind of conformity that erodes what you were made for. Do not think I’m suggesting laziness or lethargy, hardly. It’s a task just keeping up with goodness God brings into our zone; the obligations of being a true father. Accepting with grace the stewardship of this matter called life, and serving those who enter our ethos. Real live is where we intersect with God and pass it on to those we encounter. It’s about the pursuit of eternal values found as clues around us in those “aha” moments.        

Where is Moses

  Where is Moses

Some things are meant to be fixed, others simply understood or per chance enjoyed. When an infant cries that pitiful hold me cry that resonates in the heart of every young mother it’s understood we don’t squelch it, we celebrate it with warmth and coddling. Why is it we humans push everything with formulas of “fix it like we want it” and overlook the symphony of the unique and abstract?

Every life has a stanza of beauty to add to the concert of time, though all too often it’s overshadowed by the pace or conformity of the day. Inside the bosom of individuality lies the essence of the magnificent. A mosaic of charm and dance mixed with pains of existence and duty. Who hears the song of the forgotten or listens to the beat of the anxious without trying to conform it to the norm established by those who’ve never walked that way? This of course does not mean there are not those among us who are better at evil than good; that might defy the facts that man is, as a rule bent on destruction and in great need of grace. It does however allow for the beauty of life to be valued above the trauma and anxiety of survival.

Does conflict have to be conquered or is there a lesson to be learned from the path of those quite different from us? Actually it’s the contrast that produces the beauty we cherish; it’s the lens through which we learn to value this blessing called life.

Do you hear them; the songs of the quester seeking what lies as a possibility in the unknown of tomorrow?

The ostrich has a few lessons to teach, beginning with the hatchling. The shell of the bird is on average 1/8” thick. Due to the low hatchability rate great temptation toys with those observing the creatures fight to gain his spot in the scheme of life. It may seem a mercy to assist the chick in its escape but to do so will most surely deprive it of the needed development that only the struggle will grant.

Struggle does not in itself produce wisdom, as Job testifies; “God has made her (the ostrich) to forget wisdom”. Struggles do in fact bring us into the possible of meeting wisdom.Wisdom may well be the key for all found lacking in the fortuity of life; it therefore may well be the best offering toward those on the journey of change. For those lacking wisdom and craving the cure at others expense, wisdom seems a trifling thing, but if the ostrich conveys any truth, keep your hands off the egg.

Our current welfare system is the political ostrich. All our “hands on” attempts produce few chicks that acclimate to maturity. I could make more comparisons, however little would be the product, allow me though to point out the obvious “elephant in the room”; why do we keep throwing money at something that’s destroying the shell of the strugglers? The best possible answer is we do not know what else to do.

I fail to blame those whose hands are extended for their means of existence, its possible they’ve yet to encounter the wisdom of life or learned to cherish the song of their journey. I do however lay blame at the feet of those willing to rob society of emerging opportunists by simply giving them taxpayers’ money. As long as poverty exists we will observe struggle, but struggle is not the enemy. Struggle is in every stratum of class and venture. The companion to struggle is a prize and the prize blossoms like a 4^th of July night when we embrace the challenge; any historian knows this. The current Italian Greece economic debacle will only prove what I’m saying, God help the plague.

In the Exodus Moses says God told him that He had heard the cry of the afflicted and oppressed and His answer to the task was to send Moses. A Moses of sorts is the answer for every generation of man, I hope that we keep this in mind as the political dance continues and the charades are played out. Let us not be captured by the orations of the proud but rather observe the tracks the speakers have walked. May we be wise when we place our approval on a field of new leaders. May we hear the concerto of life and understand. May we pray like our future depends on it.